Addicted to the Streets
by visionaria48
Summary: Neal is a 15 yr old street kid. He loves the streets, it gives him freedom and a thrill that nothing can replace. He doesn't want a family or a home, but none the less he's adopted, along with his close friend Mozzie, by the Burkes. Can Peter and Elizabeth show the reluctant Neal what being a family really means, or will Neal be forever a street kid? R & R PLEASE!
1. Chapter 1

**Yay! Starting a White Collar fic! **

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Chapter 1

A fifteen year old boy sat looking out a window. The blue eyed teen was once again trapped in the stupid adoption agency. This was the eighth time he had been brought back. The first few times he came back the adoption agent just thought the homes weren't a good fit for him. Neal wasn't sure when exactly they realized it, but eventually they did. Neal didn't want a home or parents. He was happy without one. What Neal really wanted was to live on his own, on the streets. Neal felt free when he was out there. Sure there was danger, but that only added to the thrill of it. Picking pockets, knowing he _might_ get caught was electrifying.

"Neal?" The brunette didn't turn around; he knew the voice. It was his oldest friend. He did, however, slightly incline his head, letting the other know he was listening. "When did you get back?" The elder boy asked him, taking the seat beside him.

For a long while, he didn't answer Mozzie. Instead the scene from barely a few hours ago played in his mind.

_It was early morning and Neal was making his way back to the Newtons' house, his 'new' parents. When Neal arrived at the house he immediately saw a light on in the living room. He barely stifled his grimace. Now he was going to be 'disciplined' for sneaking out. Not that the teen hadn't heard it many times before. He gave a small sigh before opening the back door. _

"_Where the hell have you been?" The gruff question came as soon as Neal shut the door. Mr. Newton, he couldn't remember the man's name, stood there, practically shaking with anger. His squinty black eyes narrowed even more. Neal couldn't help but compare him to a rodent, what with his small eyes and angular features, the man practically embodied a mole. _

"_Out." Was Neal's short response. He moved to go around the man, but was stopped by a large hand on his shoulder. Okay, so the man was a very BIG mole. _

"_Boy, I told you the rules when you got here. And you know what I said the punishment would be for disobeying me." The hand tightened. Neal felt himself tense, his instincts from living on the streets flaring up, warning him about the possible danger of that hold. _

"_And I told you before you could stuff your rules." When the man was momentarily shocked by Neal's disrespect, he broke away. _

"_This is how you repay us boy? By disrespecting us and throwing away the good hospitability we had by bringing you into our home?" _

_Neal pretended to think about his answer. "Yeah that's about it." Neal threw in his trademark smile, just to further anger the man. _

_From the couch behind the man, Neal saw Mrs. Newton sobbing. "Why couldn't we be graced with a good obedient son? That's all we wanted." Neal barely felt anything for the woman, what her and many women seemed to want was some kind of puppy or a kid that will hang on their every word. Neal had seen too much in his short life to listen to these ignorant people._

"_Guess you chose the wrong kid then." Neal told them, shrugging. _

_The mole pointed a beefy finger at him. "Gather your things; we're taking your ungrateful attitude back to the adoption agency." _

_Neal turned and walked to 'his' room, seeing the regular monotone walls. The rooms back at the agency had more color than this one. In no time, Neal had his duffle and backpack ready to go. "Glad I never unpacked then." _

"Neal?" Mozzie's concerned voice drew him back out of the memory.

"Yeah sorry. I just got back this morning." Mozzie sighed at him. The seventeen year old was his brother in everything but blood. Neal knew Mozzie wanted the best for him, find a home and family and all that. But Neal couldn't help it, the freedom compelled him.

"Neal, these last few years are your last chance. Once you're almost eighteen, no one wants to adopt you." The elder teen informed him, shaking his shaved head. Neal felt for his friend, if he could, he would gladly change places with Moz. Moz was the one who craved a family, he didn't want anything to do with the streets.

The two friends smiled sadly at each other. Both knew what the other was feeling, no words were necessary. Neal and Mozzie both stared out the window, watching children run around innocently, without a care in the world.

* * *

"I think you'll find many children here you'd love, Mr. and Mrs. Burke." The adoption agent told them, showing them around the building.

"Please call us Peter and Elizabeth." The light haired brunette told the woman. Peter wasn't one for formalities. Right now he just wanted to be Peter, the man who desired a child, not the federal agent or Mr. Burke, he was Peter. The woman nodded, but didn't seem to take his suggestion.

"Now what age were you looking for?" She asked, stopping before a door.

Elizabeth answered first. "We were looking for an older child; both our schedules aren't conducive to a youngster. But we weren't thinking any specific age."

The woman nodded. "Yes, well I'd recommend around thirteen then. At that age, they're young enough that there's not much attitude but old enough to fend for themselves." The couple silently agreed, following the woman's suggestion. Once the agent opened the door, Peter and Elizabeth were bombarded with the noise of children, yelling, crying, small feet running. Both were a little taken aback by the sound, neither of them used to the sheer intensity of it. The agent, however, was unfazed by it. "There is one boy you might like, his name is Cody. He's a little rambunctious but…" The two hopeful parents listened to the woman's droning as they looked all around them. They saw children of all ages; some looked to be toddlers and others almost adults.

Eventually the couple met s few children but none of them resonated with the couple. When the woman was talking animatedly about another child, Peter felt his wife look into another room. Curious, Peter turned as well and was quite surprised. Two teens, one with a full head of hair and the other with none, were watching a history special on Renaissance painters. Peter couldn't believe two teenagers would willingly watch what most would consider boring. He glanced down to his wife, both smiled at each other.

"And who are those two?" Elizabeth asked, gesturing to the teens. The woman paused, seemingly annoyed to be interrupted. Shock replaced the annoyance when she saw who they were talking about.

"Oh no, you wouldn't like them. Such troublemakers, especially Caffery. Although Mozzie isn't bad, he's too glued to Neal for my comfort. But you wouldn't like them." She said, trying to get the couple to move on.

"And why wouldn't we like them?" Elizabeth asked. Peter heard the anger in his wife's voice and felt pity towards the woman who had inspired it.

"They just- well-" The woman paused. "They were street kids, criminals. You wouldn't want them in your home."

"And how would you know that? Do you tell all the possible adopters that? It's no wonder they aren't adopted yet." Peter told her, his own anger rising. Yes, these kids may have done some not so good things, but that didn't make them bad people. If anything it just made Peter want to help them more.

The adoption agent stared at them in shock, before sighing in defeat. Peter felt triumph rise in both him and Elizabeth's face. Together, they followed the agent into the room.

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**Well? Tell me your thoughts! Should I keep writing? **


	2. Chapter 2

**First of all, I have to thank you all so much for the response I've received on this story! It's been amazing! I appreciate it so much!  
****Here's chapter 2, and I thought I'd let everyone know I will update this fairly regularly, I can't say exactly when but it should beat least every week. And again, thank you so much for the feedback!**

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Chapter 2

Blue eyes watched the couple out in the hallway. Neal couldn't hear the exact words but he could still hear their tones. And see their facial expressions. He and Moz both smiled when the man put Ms. Know-It-All in her place. She was one of the worst here, if not the worst. She would help her favorites get homes and families but if she didn't like you then you were screwed. She would do everything she could to see you not get a home. While that didn't bother Neal, it actually made things easier for him; it was horribly unfair to Mozzie. To constantly see those blue eyes dull with disappointment every day that was what hurt Neal.

Both he and Moz's full attention was all on the scene outside now. He watched Moz laugh at the woman's face. "The suit is so putting that woman in her place." Neal smiled at hearing Mozzie laugh; the older blue eyes were practically dancing with mirth. He was glad to see his only friend happy but he was still apprehensive about the situation. It was rather obvious that the adults were arguing about them. Neal sighed at that. Why couldn't understand he was content the way things are?

"It's cheap suit too." Neal stated, trying to find fault in the couple. He needed to be prepared in case they came in.

Mozzie sighed. "It's not a designer suit, no. But that's not the point Neal."

"What is your point Moz?"

"The point is they look like a nice couple. They could make a nice family." Mozzie told him, gazing at him sadly. Neal snorted.

"Oh yeah. The guy who's suit screams fed, will make us a great family." Neal responded blandly, not even bothering to keep the disbelief out of his tone. Mozzie, however, continued his disappointed gaze. The younger turned away, not bothering to continue an argument that had been going on for years.

"Neal, I know I've said it before but-" He was interrupted by the door opening in a flurry of commotion. The three adults that had been arguing outside brought it inside. The adoption agent was still trying to persuade the couple to look at other children, but her words seemed to strengthen their resolve. When the couple stepped inside they basically barricade the agent out. Neal watched, shocked as they shut the door in the woman's face. Mozzie full out laughed and Neal let his real smile sneak on his face.

* * *

Peter sighed, relieved that they could be away from the obnoxious adoption agent, if only for a little while. The laughter from behind him brought forth a smile. He had a feeling these kids didn't laugh all that much. That smile dulled a bit though, when he realized there was only one person laughing. Turning, he saw the one laughing was the older teen, Mozzie. The other teen, Neal, looked to be smiling, but when those youthful blue eyes met his, the smile was replaced with an impassive mask. The FBI agent hesitated, unsure of what to do or say to the two teens. Elizabeth, on the other hand, did not hesitate a second. Peter watched proudly as his wife walked, or marched rather right up to the two boys before placing herself right in between them.

He gave a deep laugh at the look on their faces: complete and utter disbelief. It seemed no one had treated the teens like that before. Elle had that way about her; she could make anyone completely comfortable. Her talents appeared to work quite well on Mozzie, he opened up quite easily. As Peter came and sat next to Mozzie he watched Neal watch both he and his wife suspiciously. "Hello Mozzie. Nice to meet you, I'm Peter."

He held his hand to the teen. Mozzie seemed to pause before reaching out himself. "Hi Peter." Peter gave a sigh of relief at Mozzie's reaction. He was much more open than Neal, who only appeared to give a standoffish vibe. Peter smirked, not that his attitude would discourage Elle.

"So, Mozzie, how old are you?" He asked, trying to start a conversation with the teen.

Mozzie seemed to sigh at the question. "I'm 17. I lost my parents, used to live on the streets and I've been here for almost a year." The bald teenager gave him a smirk. "You're going to have to ask better questions than that suit." Peter blinked, speechless for a second, before he laughed again.

"Alright." Peter said once his chuckles ceased. "Why are you here?" He asked, giving a more personal question rather than the ones Mozzie had probably heard countless times before.

Mozzie seemed to start at the question. Peter watched memories swirl in those grey-blue eyes. The pain and sadness in them gave Peter pause. He regretted the question almost immediately, this kid had had enough pain in his life; he didn't need to be reminded of it again. His regret diminished a little when he saw strength replace the pain Mozzie's eyes.

He was surprised when Mozzie gestured for them to continue their conversation across the room. Peter received a surprised look from Elle, but he shrugged not understanding the situation either. Once the two were a couple feet from the couch, Mozzie turned to him. "The answer to your question in Neal." Peter looked at the young teen, surprised before giving his attention back to Mozzie. "Long story short, I met Neal out on the streets probably four years ago. He became my brother in everything but blood. One of our close friends was killed doing a job before we came here. I couldn't take the thought of Neal being hurt like that. I've been looking after him for so long that…" Mozzie's voice faded as he watched his 'brother' who now was blatantly ignoring everyone in the room. Peter looked down at the teen that was wise beyond his years. He clasped him on the shoulder to give him some comfort, and to let Mozzie know he understood.

When Mozzie stared up at him thankful, Peter felt his heart clench. He badly wanted to care for both him and his younger brother. The words street kids floated into his thoughts but Peter brushed it aside. He could tell these kids had good hearts and while they may have done bad things, he knew that if you continued to treat them like criminals that would be all you'd get. Glancing to the couch Peter saw Elizabeth smiling at him. She seemed to have the same idea as he did. Neal and Mozzie were already a family. And the Burkes wanted to add to that family.

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**Please Review!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Hello everybody!  
****First of all, I am so sorry I have not updated in a while! My only excuse is college!  
****Second, I HAVE NOT AND WILL NOT ABANDON THIS STORY. EVER. I just can't say for sure how fast I will update. But it will be updated.  
And lastly, again, thank you so much to anyone who reviewed, faved or alerted this story! You guys are great!**

**Enjoy!**

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Chapter 3

Peter looked at his wife, seeing the agreement in her face. Elizabeth gave him a bright smile telling him that what she wanted as well. He turned back to the teen wise beyond his years. "Well what if you two could stay together?" His words pulled Mozzie from whatever thoughts or memories he was stuck in. Two pairs of warm brown eyes clashed: one filled with doubt and distrust, the other filled with promise.

"What do you mean?" Peter smirked; of course someone like Mozzie would want all the facts before making a decision. Peter found that an admirable trait, even some of the best agents he worked with lacked that common sense.

"What if Elizabeth and I adopted both of you? We wouldn't try to separate you two, rather just make your and our family bigger." As the FBI agent watched shock was replaced in Mozzie's eyes, which gradually blended into a thoughtful expression. The teen turned back and watched his young friend. He seemed to be contemplating things Peter couldn't hope to understand yet.

"Neal won't like it." Mozzie whispered to him. Peter acknowledged the words with a tilt of the head, waiting for him to continue. "Normally he doesn't stay with a family."

"But you'll be there." Peter interjected quietly.

"I can't guarantee that he won't run." The teen said. Peter could almost feel the rejection coming. Of course two teens wouldn't want to come live with some older couple like them. He was so caught up in his own self-doubt that he almost missed Mozzie's next few words. "But I'd like to try." Their eyes clashed again, but this time they were on the same side and both were filled with hope.

"Then we'll try."

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Neal watched the couple leave and breathed a sigh of relief. It was so draining to deal with adopters, especially the ones who wouldn't pick up on the fact that he didn't want nor care about being adopted. Like the couple that had just been in here, the Burkes. When Neal's noncommittal answers and shrugs were either overlooked or not answered, he resulted to simply ignoring the whole situation. Neal wasn't one to be blatantly rude or disrespectful but when the woman kept going on and on he really wanted to. And that was saying something.

On the other hand, Mozzie had seemed to get along quite well with the family. Maybe his friend was finally getting the family he rightfully deserved and wanted. During Elizabeth's one-sided conversation with him, Neal had routinely checked on his friend, ready to jump to his defense if need be.

But it hadn't been needed. Throughout the conversation Moz had a small smile on his face and the expression in his eyes for once made him actually look like a teenager, not big brother Moz Neal was so used to. Despite the sad feeling in his heart the blue-eyed teen realized it was time for he and his closest friend to part ways. This could very well be Mozzie's last chance. And Neal would do anything to make sure he got that chance.

Once Mozzie sat back down on the couch after the couple was gone, Neal addressed him. "You liked them." He did his best to keep his voice flat, determined not to influence Mozzie to stay with him, no matter how much he wanted.

If his friend was at all distracted by his tone he didn't show it. "Yes I did." He replied with a smirk on his face. Neal's eyes narrowed a bit at that look, nothing good ever came from that mischievous look.

"They liked you too." Neal continued, trying to draw more out of his friend. The smirk seemed to grow wider.

"That they did." His left eye twitched a bit at how deliberately obtuse his friend was being. But Neal was stubborn. He was determined not to ask what was said and wait for Mozzie to tell him something first. During the next couple of minutes it was a battle of wills to see who would speak first. In the end it was Mozzie that caved first. "They like you too."

Bright blue eyes shot fast as lightning to his friend before turning back to the window. "Are you insinuating something, Mozzie?" He asked his friend.

"I'm not insinuating anything, Neal. Simply stating a fact."

"And how is that fact relevant to our current discussion about you?"

Mozzie paused for a second, as if contemplating what to say. "Peter had an interesting… proposition you could say." Warning bells starting going off in Neal's head. He watched his friend continue suspiciously. "It seems to be the best solution to all parties involved." Those brown eyes had a determined glint in them. Neal grasped what his friend wasn't saying immediately. "I said yes."

Practically leaping off the couch, Neal turned to face his friend. "What were you thinking Moz?!" Before he was even finished speaking, Mozzie shot off the couch as well, coming face to face with Neal. He used his slightly taller stature to his advantage, forcing Neal to look up at him.

"I was thinking it's the best of both worlds, Neal! I can still look after you like I swore and we can still be a part of a family!" Neal took a small step back, shocked, both at his friend yelling and the reminder of their promise. He ran a hand through his brown hair, uncertain of what to say. Mozzie seemed to pick up on his unease, softening his voice. "One chance Neal. That's all I'm asking. They want to adopt us both. We both know that's not going to happen again."

He knew Moz was right, but he still didn't like it. He was being boxed in again, put into another cookie cutter house with a perfect family. He felt trapped… but it was Moz. Moz had always been there for him, helped him. Moz was the only person he trusted.

"One chance." Neal simply said, conceding without admitting it. Moz, being Moz, understood completely, knowing he had won this battle. Neal would go with the Burkes, try to give them a chance, for Mozzie.

Neal's bright blue eyes looked out the window to the similar hued sky. He could already feel the oppressive feeling that family brought. In the back of his mind he could almost feel the chains closing in.


	4. Chapter 4

**Hey everybody! Again, I can't express enough the gratitude for receiving so much support on this story! It makes me feel so loved! I'm going to do my absolute best to update as regularly as I can!  
****Enjoy**

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Chapter 4

If Neal didn't have the control he did he would be fidgeting in his seat. He wasn't nervous per se; he just had a lot of pet up energy from being in the small car. As he watched the downtown buildings pass by, he absentmindedly listened to the conversation in the car. The bits and pieces he heard were mostly about the Burkes' house or Elizabeth's event planning business.

"So Neal, how would you like to decorate your room? Mozzie's thinking about an island theme, would you like something similar?" Elizabeth was turned around in the front seat smiling at him. Clearly she was still trying to be friendly and Neal's cold demeanor hadn't dampened that at all. From his peripheral vision he could see Moz watching him expectantly. Neal grimaced slightly, trying to think of a noncommittal answer but Moz beat him to it.

"No Neal's not as into the island theme as I am. He'd probably prefer to paint his own room." Neal gave Mozzie a glare.

"You paint Neal?" Peter interjected, making eye contact through the rearview mirror. His brown eyes were warm with curiosity. Neal looked away, a little confused as no one had ever asked about his skills before.

"Yes, I do. I haven't been able to recently though, since I used the last of my paint a few weeks ago." Neal didn't miss the glance between the Burkes but was at a loss as to what it meant. Did they not like that he paints? Were they looking for a sports fanatic? If so, then they were going to be greatly disappointed since neither Moz nor he were much into sports. Neal was drawn out of his inner thoughts as Elizabeth started talking to him again.

"What would you paint in your room then, if you could that is?" Neal paused for a second, thinking of all the masterpieces he had done but none of them stood out in his mind. Instead there was another image in his mind. Before his most recent stint in the foster homes he lived in an old warehouse. While the building itself was horrible and falling apart, the view was spectacular.

"The New York Skyline." Neal replied, vividly remembering every detail from that building. His answer seemed to surprise the couple, especially Peter, even though he quickly hid the shock.

"Could you really paint that?" He asked, something other than curiosity in his voice, however, Mozzie answered for him.

"Neal definitely could. You should see some of the work he does, it's amazing." Blue eyes turned back to the window, feeling a little heat come to his face.

"Do you have any of your art with you, Neal? I would love to see it." Elizabeth inquired, but Neal shook his head.

"No, I don't really keep any of the stuff I paint for very long." He exchanged a knowing glance with Moz. Most of the works he did weren't quite, well original. Whatever he got paid to paint, he painted. Usually that consisted of forgeries, not that Elizabeth and Peter needed to know that.

"Well," Elizabeth began, turning back to face the road, "we'll just have to change that won't we?" Neal figured the question was rhetorical so he didn't answer. He wasn't sure if he wanted to do his own work. It was easier to do someone else's work rather than get attached to his own.

* * *

From the outside the townhouse looked like all the others, Neal observed. The bricks and windows were the same as all the others on the street. There was one thing, however, that made the house stand out. It had a bright red door. Most of the others had neutral toned doors, but not this one. Neal reflected on this difference as he walked in.

"There's someone else you two need to meet." Neal glanced between Moz and Peter; the former seemed just as confused as he, Peter, however, was smiling. He set his duffle down on the floor and understood when he heard the distinct sound of dog tags clinking. Not a minute later a yellow Labrador retriever came around the corner to the small living room. The dog went to Peter first, but gave the teens a questioning look.

"This is Satchmo." Peter told them as he pat the dog's head. The lab trotted over to the teens, reaching Neal first and he was unable to refuse those doleful eyes. He knelt down and started scratching the dog's neck, underneath the bright blue collar. Satchmo gave him a lick on the cheek for his efforts before moving on to Mozzie. The young teen watched his pseudo-brother pet the lab before surveying the rest of the room. It was relatively calm design, mostly blues and grays. It was a strangely soothing effect. Just as some of the tension was fading from his shoulders, blue eyes landed on the coffee table. There sitting next to a small pile of baseball magazines was a coffee mug. Normally, Neal wouldn't find this at all worrisome, well besides the obvious baseball obsession, but what the mug said worried him.

There on the bright white mug in bold, black letters were the words 'World's Best FBI Agent'. Neal felt some of the blood drain from his face. His world seemed to narrow to that mug. He glanced to Peter, looking more closely at the man. He took in the average everyday suit and tie, trying to figure out who Peter was.

Just what had Moz got him into this time?

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**Thanks for reading! Reviews are always welcome!**


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Neal's world narrowed down to that cup. For a split second that was all he could see, those bright blue letters screaming at him. The suddenly, it was as if the world started turning again. He looked away from the mug, trying to school his features. For once it wasn't an easy feat, that coffee mug had shook him. Glancing at Mozzie, he saw his friend still petting Satchmo. Obviously he hadn't yet noticed the mug.

"Would you like to see your rooms?" Elizabeth asked; Neal let her voice distract him from the thoughts racing through his head. Mozzie agreed enthusiastically, following her up the stairs, leaving Neal and Peter to follow. The wooden stairs creaked below their feet. Neal mentally stored that information for future reference. Reaching the top of the stairs, he looked down the tan walled hallway. There were only four doors: one on the right, two on the left and one at the end. "That is our room." She stated, gesturing to the door on the right. A few feet further down Elizabeth walked into the first door on the left. "And these are your rooms. This one and the one next to it are the same, so you can choose which one you want." Neal stopped in the doorway, taking in the plain room. It looked like all the others. White walls and an empty room. He felt the familiar stab of disappointment but he pushed it down, not like he would be staying long anyway.

A hand came down on his shoulder and gave a firm squeeze. "I know it's not much, but we didn't want to decorate until you both were here." Neal watched Peter as he spoke. His brown eyes reminded him a lot of Mozzie's. Peter leaned in closer. "And I'm sure El is just dying to take you two shopping." He said smiling, turning his face to his wife. "Why don't we let them get settled Elizabeth? We can figure out what to do for dinner." Elizabeth nodded, her brown waves bobbing.

"Alright boys, we'll be downstairs, com down when you're ready." She touched both teens' cheeks before following Peter, their voices echoing slightly on the stairs.

"Are you sure that we should have left them up there Peter?" Elizabeth asked, her eyes focusing on the top of the stairs, as if she thought she'd be able to see through the walls. Peter sighed, stroking Satchmo's head when the dog came and sat at his feet. In truth, he wasn't sure if it was the right decision, but he did know that if either felt even the tiniest bit stifled they'd be gone.

"I think so. We need to get them to trust us, especially Neal. They won't if we're constantly looking over their shoulder." He told her, looking for something to distract them. In a neat stack on the coffee table he saw a pile of takeout menus. Leaning over, he picked them up and began absentmindedly thumbing through them. "What do you think we should order for dinner El?" He asked, handing over half the stack. The effect was instantaneous; she immediately started saying the pros and cons of each. Peter gave a small smirk, in all honesty he could go for a good burger but he had a feeling he would be outnumbered. Oh well.

As soon as the echoes stopped, Neal turned to Moz. "Why didn't you tell me the guy was a fed?" He almost yelled before restraining himself. Mozzie shot around to look at him, his own eyes wide in shock.

"What do you mean he's a fed?" Mozzie shot back, flicking his eyes around the room.

"So you didn't know?" Neal asked, running a hand through his hair.

"Of course I didn't! But…" He paused as if losing himself in his thoughts.

"But what Mozzie?" Neal could hear the edge in his voice and he winced. They had only just got here and things were already going to hell.

"Honestly Neal, it would stop the forgeries and conning. We could finally leave that behind us and move one." This caused Neal snort in incredulity.

"You were the one who introduced me to it Moz. How can you say you want to back out now?" He watched as Mozzie sat heavily on the bare bed, rubbing his shaved head.

"I know I did. And I regret it every day." Neal shot him an angry look. "Yes, I know you're good at it and like doing it but that doesn't mean it's good for you. It got Greg killed." He ended, burying his head in his hands. Neal watched him sadly before moving to sit next to him. He pressed his shoulder against his friend in comfort.

"This is that important to you?" Neal asked, referring to living with the Burkes.

"Yes. I need this Neal. I need a family… away from that old life." Moz stopped, making eye contact with Neal he continued. "And I think you do too, even if you don't want to admit it."

"Then I'll give a chance." In all honesty Neal didn't want to stay, it made him feel on edge here, but friends were more important than his own feelings. Since Moz was the closest friend he had, he would try it for one last time. Besides the forgeries could wait the world will always be in business for them. He clapped his pseudo brother on the shoulder, much like what Peter did to him. "Well, let's go downstairs before they get worried about us." He said standing, waiting for Moz to lead the way.

Once they both made it down the stairs they found the couple sitting on the blue sofa surrounded by takeout menus. At the sound of the stairs their heads shot up. Peter gave a smile and a nod and Elizabeth stood and walked over to them. "Well what would you two like for dinner? Thai or there's a good diner not far-"

"Thai." Both boys said simultaneously, not letting her finish.

Elizabeth smiled before turning around. "Sorry Hun, but you're outvoted." Peter just laughed, shaking his head. Neal watched him walk over to the phone, before he was herded along with Mozzie for a full tour of the house.

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Sorry for another long wait!  
But thanks for reading! Remember reviews=love!


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

The house was quiet, Neal thought from his spot on his new bed. It had a few creaks here and there but overall, it was much quieter than many of the places he'd stayed. He rolled over onto his stomach, burying his face in the pillow, trying to get some sleep.

_4 years ago…_

It was cold. Neal's light jacket was no match for a New York January. He puffed out a breath and shivered. He should have realized that lifting a bus ticket and coming to New York wouldn't be that easy, of course Neal had to arrive in the middle of a snow storm. Numb fingers reached into the front pocket of his worn jeans, feeling for the twenty dollar bill. He knew it was still there but it was reassuring to touch it. Neal had planned on using the last of that some food but now he realized he'd have to spend it on a true winter coat. Then hopefully his fingers would be warm enough to pickpocket some more cash.

_Neal continued to walk down the street, finally finding the store he was looking for, a thrift store. The eleven year old sighed as he walked into the heated store, finally feeling his body warming up. He walked in and out of racks, most of the clothes were hideous, something the prideful boy would never get caught wearing. Eventually he had to settle for a long, tan colored coat, it wasn't the best but he would have to make do. He checked the price tag, resigned to the fact it would require the full twenty dollars. _

_Ten minutes later the eleven year old walked out clad in the lightly-used coat. Quickly stuffing his hands into the coat, Neal planned his next move. He needed to get some more money, preferably cash as most people would notice a young boy using a credit card. Neal glanced around the few people walking down the street. The best place to pickpocket someone would be in a more crowded place but Neal didn't really have that option, unless he wanted to wait until tomorrow. _

_Neal continued to walk down the snow covered sidewalk, eyeing possible marks. He caught sight of one walking toward him. He looked to be about middle aged and he was talking very animatedly on a cell phone. The boy started flexing his fingers, trying to increase blood flow to the digits; the last thing he needed was to fumble when stealing a wallet and get caught. Once the man was close enough Neal pretended to slip in the snow, grabbing onto the man as he 'fell'. "Hey kid! Watch where the hell you're goin'!" The man yelled as Neal straightened and mumbled an apology. Walking away he opened the wallet and started counting the bills. It looked to be about thirty or forty bucks, enough for him to get by for a few days. "What the-?! Hey, that kid stole my wallet!" Neal glanced back to see the man running toward him, he didn't wait and just ran. He ran across the street, weaving through the few cars on the road, but the man followed. Neal ducked into an alleyway, looking for somewhere to hide. _

"_Kid. Hey, kid!" Neal jumped at the new voice, his heart pounding. He flipped his head around, there, in the doorway he hadn't noticed before stood a bald teenager. He was gesturing for Neal to come in. At first Neal was suspicious but a quick look back at the street and the man chasing him fueled his decision. Ducking in the doorway, the heavy door shut with a loud click. _

_As Neal leaned against the inside wall, panting, the teen looked him up and down. "So what did you steal from him?"_

_Neal was startled, how did he know? "I didn't steal anything." He lied, the guy may have saved his butt, but that didn't make him exactly trustworthy. _

_A brow arched over the teen's glasses-covered eyes. "Come on. I'm a thief too; I know what a mark looks like." Neal gave a small sigh before holding up the wallet. The bald boy laughed. "See? Can't fool me, kid. So what's your name?"  
_

_Neal continued to watch him. He seemed like an alright guy. "Neal." _

_The teen smiled and reached out, quickly ruffling Neal's hair. "Name's Mozzie. I take it you're new around here?" Neal nodded. "Well, welcome to New York kid." _

Neal blinked open his eyes. Why did he dream about the time he first met Moz? It seemed really odd as he hadn't thought about that memory in years. Mozzie had been such a constant in his life that he never had to think about the past. That had been the first time anyone had welcomed Neal like that. He had come to New York just after his drunkard of a mother died. She was in a fatal car accident one night after leaving the bar. Killed on impact is what the police said. Neal had packed up and left before social services arrived. He never looked back.

* * *

Peter blew a quick breath of air on the coffee mug. Not that it really cooled it down, but it was a habit. He took a quick sip as he read the morning paper. It was just the same old headlines, but one article in particular caught his eye, it was one of the cases the White Collar Unit was currently looking into. A few forged Degas had been appearing. They were good ones too, so whoever was behind it was very skilled and needed to be caught soon, before they moved up from painting to other types of reproductions. Unfortunately, they hadn't found any new leads; no one seemed to know who this guy was.

He set down the paper, deciding not to dwell on work today. Both he and Elizabeth were hoping to settle Neal and Mozzie in today, help make them feel more at home. Peter knew his wife wanted to take the kids shopping, but he wasn't sure if that was the best way to get to know them. Not that Peter had any other ideas though.

"Good morning Peter." Just then Elizabeth made her way down the stairs, clad in the robe Peter had given her for Christmas last year. Her hair was still slightly tousled; obviously she had just woken up.

"Morning El. You're up early."

"I know. I was just so excited to start the day getting to know our new kids that I couldn't sleep anymore." Peter smiled at the excitement he could feel coming off his wife. In truth, he was eager too and overwhelmingly nervous.

"So am I. And really nervous." He added, looking down into his coffee.

"Oh that too, we just have to take in one day at a time." Elizabeth told him, for probably the twentieth time since they met the teenagers. Peter was about to reply when the creak of the stairs drew his attention. There on the lower steps stood a rather awkward Neal.

"Good morning Neal." Peter smiled. "We were just about to make some breakfast, is there anything you would like?"

Neal gave him a confused glance. "Uh, no. Anything is fine." He said staying in his spot.

Peter's smile fell a little at the edges. "You sure? We'd be willing to make you just about anything. We just want you to feel at home here." If anything that just made Neal look more confused.

"Can I have some coffee?" He asked, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his sweats. Peter blinked, surprised.

"You drink coffee?" Neal merely shrugged, looking uncomfortable. "Well, of course you can have some. Come on." Peter said standing up, gesturing for Neal to follow. Once the teen was in arms reach, Peter wrapped his arm around his shoulder. "Elizabeth makes a great cup of coffee, some special beans, from some special place." He said waving off the name. "But it really is worth it."

"Oh, good morning Neal." Elizabeth said as the two walked into the kitchen. "How did you sleep?"

"Good, thank you Mrs. Burke." Neal answered a bit stiffly.

"Please, call me Elizabeth or El, Mrs. Burke sounds so stuffy." She told him, keeping strong eye contact to get her message across.

"Alright Elizabeth." She nodded in approval before turning back to the coffee maker.

"Just sit down on the stool and I'll get you a cup." Peter told him, giving him a gentle push to the kitchen island. Peter quickly poured a cup and set out the regular amenities for Neal to doctor the cup himself.

"I have to say I'm surprised you're up this early, Neal." Peter began when Neal finished stirring in some sugar.

"I've always been more of a morning person. Mozzie on the other hand, I'll be surprised if he's up before noon." Neal joked with a small smile as he took a sip of coffee. This made Peter smile, Neal seemed to be getting more comfortable with them, at least a little bit. He looked over to see Elizabeth smiling behind her coffee mug as well.

"So, Neal, what would you like for breakfast today?" El asked this time.

"I don't-" Neal started before Peter cut it.

"You better just tell her Neal. She doesn't take no for an answer." Peter said jokingly, pretending to be in pain as Elizabeth smacked him on the arm.

"Oh shush you. So, Neal?" She reiterated again. Neal fidgeted with the cup, running his fingers along the rim. They just waited for his answer.

"I haven't had waffles in quite a while." He told them, keeping his eyes down on the coffee. Peter's smile grew.

"Waffles huh? I think we can manage that." He waited until Neal looked up before giving him a wink. Neal started to smile. "On one condition." The smile immediately dropped at Peter's words. "You chip in too." Peter gave a light pat on the back as that small smile came back.

"We're going to have to get a bigger coffee maker, Peter." Elizabeth told him as she refilled each of their cups, using the last of the pot. "I assume Mozzie drinks coffee too?" Neal nodded as he added more sugar to his.

"Oh yeah, he's a self-proclaimed connoisseur of it." Just then the same teen they were talking about stumbled in, clearly still half asleep.

"Is there coffee?" He mumbled making his way over to the counter. This caused the three people already there to start laughing. A bleary-eyed Mozzie watched them, not understanding the joke. "Did I miss something?"

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	7. Chapter 7

**Hey everybody, sorry for such a long wait! I feel horrible that I've made anyone who loves this story wait so long. I promise I will update more often! If anyone thinks I'm taking too long again, just PM and give me a kick in the but to write!**

**Enjoy  
**

* * *

Chapter 7

Neal paused in the middle of a brushstroke. For some reason he just did not have the motivation to paint today. He felt oddly on edge. It was the type of feeling Neal had right before he took off from somewhere. Stepping back he looked at the beginnings of the New York mural the Burkes had let him paint. He was still surprised that had let him. Even more surprised when they got him the paints to do it. Elizabeth peaked in everyday to see how it was coming, at first Neal was annoyed by that but gradually he was getting used to someone complimenting his own work for once.

He sighed, reaching up to run a hand through his hair before remembering it was smeared with paint. Instead he turned his bright blue eyes to the window, more lost in thought than looking at the scenery. It had only been a week since he and Moz moved in and he was already restless. The first couple days were awkward but the Burkes seemed to be genuinely nice people, besides the fact Peter was a fed. While the awkwardness had faded, it left Neal more uncomfortable in a way. They all knew each other now but not completely, it made him feel unsure and he hated that. Neal would never break his promise to Moz about giving Peter and Elizabeth a chance but it was hard. He constantly felt watched and he was never left alone. Neal gave an annoyed snort, that was probably Mozzie's doing. The teen obviously thought Neal was more likely to run if he was by himself but right now he just felt trapped, like he needed to get out even more.

Setting down his brushes, Neal decided to do just that. He quickly went and rinsed off the excess paint, not bothering to clean up. He just needed to get out. Snagging his jacket, he made his way downstairs, doing his best not to run even though he wanted to. He paused with his hand on the door handle; he couldn't walk out without at least telling Moz. They would think he left. Neal sighed again and let go of the handle. He walked back through the house, before finding Elizabeth and Moz sitting at the dining table with all sorts of color swatches spread out. Both looked up as he approached.

Neal cleared his throat before speaking. "I'm going to go for a quick walk."

Mozzie spoke first. "Neal, I don't think-" But he stopped when a feminine hand covered his. Both boys looked over and met her soft, blue eyes. Surprisingly, she was smiling.

"I think that's a great idea Neal, why don't you take Satchmo with you? He hasn't been on a decent walk in quite a while." He knew what she was doing; she was making sure he had a reason to come back. He nodded anyway, just needing to get out. Thankfully, it didn't take long to gather Satchmo and be out the door.

The first block he almost ran. The need to get away was that strong. It wasn't that far, however, when he slowed down. Now that Neal was out and moving the restless feeling was fading somewhat. But he still felt on edge. He tightened his hand on the leash and kept going, determined to walk it off.

* * *

Once Peter made it through the doorway he immediately loosened his tie and took off his suit jacket. It was always a good feeling to come home and get comfortable. Peter personally thought it was the best. The first thing he noticed after closing the door was the lack of a dog greeting. Usually Satchmo would be overjoyed when he walked in the door, so it was odd when he was absent. Peter just shrugged; maybe El had let him outside. Just as he was about to ask loudly, she walked around the corner. The first thing he noticed was she looked worried. Peter was instantly on alert. "What's wrong El?" He asked, wrapping his arms around her.

"Neal went out." Peter swallowed, fearing the worse. "He went for a walk over an hour ago, and he's not back yet. He took Satchmo with him because I thought- Oh Peter was I wrong to let him go?" She buried her head into Peter's chest, but he saw the tears in her eyes. She was really worried.

He looked up and met his other adopted son's eyes. They too looked worried but they had a confidence in them. "What do you think Mozzie? Should we be worried?" Mozzie kept eye contact for a second but looked away when El turned around to face him. Both watched as the teen nervously rubbed his head before answering.

"No. I don't think so. He came down and told us. If he was really running, then he would just be gone." El gave an almost whimper, before turning back to Peter. He, in turn, gave Mozzie a look, telling him that was not the best way to say that. Mozzie gave him an apologetic look before walking over to try and comfort El. "That's just how Neal is, Elizabeth. It has nothing to do with either He doesn't like to stay in one place for very long. Even I was like that once." He now had both of their attentions.

"What do you mean, Mozzie?" El asked, drying her eyes.

"Neal's been on his own, doing whatever he wants for a long time. He hasn't ever wanted to stop moving. He thinks anything that stops him from that is a cage." Mozzie was starting to look uncomfortable. Obviously he didn't want to betray his brother but he also seemed to think this was important for them to know.

"What made you change?" Peter asked this time. Mozzie gave a sigh, looking very sad.

"A friend of ours was hurt. I realized that I was tired of worrying about my friends being hurt. I was tired of constantly being on the move, it was hard and I just wanted to a part of a home." He looked away, staring absently at the wall. "Neal hasn't had that realization yet." The next words were almost impossible to distinguish. "But I wish that he would."

"Oh Mozzie." Elizabeth began, grabbing him in a very motherly hug. After a hard squeeze she released him, only to cup both his cheeks. "Now listen to me, Mozzie." Peter smirked at her change in tone. It still amazed him how she could jump between gushing and ordering. "No matter what, you have found a home here with us." She gave him warm smile. "And we won't let anyone take that from you."

"Thanks Elizabeth." This time Mozzie initiated the hug, leaning his head to rest on her shoulder. Peter's smirk turned to soft smile at the scene, before looking back to the door, but they were still missing one person.

* * *

Neal lost track of how much time he spent walking. All he knew is that when he finally stopped, the sun was starting to set. He felt the guilt rise when he realized how worried everyone would be. Turning on his heel, Neal tugged Satchmo back in the direction they came.

"Caffery." The one word made his stomach drop. Neal turned his head and watched the young man walk out from the alley.

"Keller." He replied, keeping his tone deliberately short.

"I have another job for you, Neal." The man gave him something that looked to heinous to qualify as any sort of smile.

"Not interested." Neal started to walk away, hoping in vain that the man would leave him alone.

"My buyers absolutely loved those Degas, Neal. But now they want something more." The man stayed where he was, watching Neal continue to walk away. "You know, it would be such a shame if your new Mommy and Daddy found out about your and Mozzie's little business." The threat made Neal freeze. Honestly, he couldn't care less about what happened to him, but Mozzie had finally found what he wanted. He had a family now. Neal wouldn't let anyone screw that up for him.

"What do you want Keller?" Neal asked, finally turning around, glaring at the man.

"Just a few pieces, maybe a Monet or a Rafael. They're not picky." Keller tossed Neal a phone, presumably an untraceable one. "Keep that and I'll let you know." With that he walked away, disappearing the way he came.

Neal looked down to the phone. He was worried. Working with Keller was never a good idea. Someone always seemed to end up hurt. But what choice did he have? If a fed like Peter found out about their secrets he'd throw them out like everyone else had. Neal pocketed the phone, resolving to not let that happen.

* * *

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	8. Chapter 8

Hey everybody! Finally an update! Yay!  
Enjoy

* * *

Chapter 8

It was dark by the time Neal walked up to the Burkes' home. The light streaming out the front window was especially glaring. He glanced down at Satchmo but the dog only gave him a bland look. "I don't suppose I'm going to get off easy huh?" Neal asked rhetorically. Satchmo simply trotted ahead to the door. The teen sighed and hesitantly opened the door.

Upon hearing the door three people shot up from the spots on the couch. Elizabeth was the first to reach him. Neal stumbled backward from the force of her hug, the leash slipping out of his hand as he cautiously patted her on the back. "Thank goodness you're home Neal! I was so worried!" Her voice was so shaky that Neal didn't have to look at her to know she was on the verge of tears.

Neal watched as Peter slowly came forward, placing a hand on El's shoulder. She slowly released him with a look that was both stern and relieved. "Neal where were you?" Peter asked, crossing his arms, further wrinkling his button down shirt. Peter's brown eyes were narrowed, demanding an answer.

Neal pushed his shoulders back. Yeah, he may feel guilty for making them worry but that didn't mean he was going to back down to a look like that. "I was out for a walk. I told Elizabeth and Mozzie that."

"A two and a half hour walk?" Peter asked incredulously with an arched brow.

"Look, I'm sorry if I worried everyone but I got distracted. I lost track of time." Peter simply continued to stare at him. Neal had to stop himself from fidgeting under that gaze. "It won't happen again."

"You're right it won't. We were all worried sick, Neal." Neal did look away at that point, the cream colored walls suddenly fascinating. Peter sighed at his lack of response. "We've been pretty lenient with you two up until now but it's time we set some ground rules. As of now your curfew is nine and no late night walks either."

"Really, a curfew, is that really necessary Peter? I was only gone a few hours. I even took Satchmo with me!" Neal argued; he couldn't believe they were already restricting him. Looking to his friend, he could see Mozzie's apologetic look. Apparently Neal was on his own for this one.

"We're the parents in this household. What we say goes, Neal." Neal felt his whole body stiffen. So they already thought they were his parents, huh?

"Peter's right, sweetie." Neal turned his head to Elizabeth, her blue eyes soft.

"Sorry for worrying you." Neal told her quietly.

Elizabeth just smiled at him. "I know." She patted his cheek. "The curfew will give us all a little peace of mind. Okay?" Neal gave a stiff nod. "Alright, now let's heat up dinner and we can all eat." Elizabeth walked out of the living room, leaving the three men alone.

Neal blinked, a little shocked. "You guys didn't eat?"

Peter shook his head, following the path Elizabeth took to the kitchen. "We all eat together. That's the way it works in this house."

Neal and Mozzie were left in the ensuing silence, the sound of plates carrying from the kitchen. "They really were worried," Mozzie told him. Neal simply tilted his head, not saying a word. "Okay, the curfew may be little overboard, but they're just reacting that way because they don't want to feel that way again."

"So they think the best thing to do is to tell me what to do?" Neal asked his tone disbelieving.

"It's not-" Mozzie sighed. "Kids are supposed to have rules. The way we grew isn't how it's supposed to be." Neal wasn't convinced and Mozzie saw it in his face. "I know you don't believe me now, but I hope you will eventually." Mozzie paused again. "You won't do anything drastic, right?"

Mozzie was asking if he'd leave, great now his closest friend didn't even trust him. "I promised I'd wait didn't I?"

Mozzie stared at him intently for a few more seconds. "Yes, you did."

* * *

Dinner was quiet. Peter was quick to notice neither boy was talking. That certainly wasn't a promising sign. But what worried Peter the most was that the boys weren't talking to each other. Obviously something had happened when both he and El left the room. Peter wasn't sure if he could be able to find out or if he even should.

"Neal, why don't you help me clean up." Elizabeth broke the silence. Neal stood, nodding as he gathered the dishes. Peter stood as well, but sat back down at a subtle glance from El.

Much later when everyone had settled into their respective beds, Peter still lay awake. He knew he was justified in giving Neal the curfew but he was still taken aback at how he'd reacted. There seemed to be more distant between him and Neal. Peter hated it. He didn't want to do anything that would worsen it but he knew he had to also be strict. He felt so torn.

A warm hand slid across his stomach, making him jump slightly. El's voice was a bit husky from sleep. "You're overthinking," she stated.

"I know. Neal… he just ties me up in knots. I don't know what we'd do without Mozzie helping us."

"I know Peter. These things are going to happen. We both know that."

Peter snorted. "Then why were you worrying about it earlier?"

"That's the mother's job. We worry and hover and then we're understanding about it later on."

"What am I supposed to do, El?" Peter's voice was quiet but it still seemed loud in their room.

"You just be Peter," El told him as she snuggled into his side, laying her head on his shoulder.

* * *

Neal was also in bed unable to sleep. When he'd finally come back up to his room he had found most of his paints dry and useless. After he had cleaned those up and somewhat put them away, basically just creating a path through the chaos. That wasn't really what was bothering him though. It was the small object that was in his pocket all night. He had quickly stashed the phone in dresser, buried underneath his clothes. Neal probably could have thrown in out, but Keller seemed to know where ne and Moz were staying. So throwing it out wouldn't do much good besides aggravating Keller.

That's what was bothering him now. Every time he closed his eyes he saw that phone, worrying about when he'd get that call. It was well into the night when Neal's body finally gave into exhaustion.

**Thanks for reading!  
****I'll be doing my best to update fairly regularly! **


	9. Chapter 9

So... it's been a while. I promise I'm not abandoning this story. I just haven't exactly had the motivation to write lately. But hey, I finally got this chapter done!  
So, enjoy!

* * *

Chapter 9

Neal stood back and admired the wall in his bedroom. It was finally done. The Skyline was completed. It took of the whole wall and was done in all blacks and grays save for the yellow glow of the small windows.

He meticulously cleaned all of his brushes, glancing at the wall occasionally with a proud smile. He had thrown himself into the painting since being given a curfew a few days ago. It had been his outlet for the frustration. His smile faltered. Now he didn't have anything to work on. It wouldn't be easy to avoid them now.

To Neal, it seemed as if the grays of the mural completely overtook the yellow. He was feeling trapped and both he and Moz were supposed to start school soon. Basically he'd be trapped in another locked building all day.

Glancing at the clock, Neal was surprised to see it was well after midnight. He sighed, running a hand through his hair. He decided to just go to bed; maybe it would look better in the morning.

* * *

Neal rolled over, yawning. His eyes opened to slits, glaring at the sunlight. He groaned into his pillow, knowing he should get up but not wanting to. He sat up, running a hand down his tired face, already regretting not getting enough sleep. He snagged the sweatshirt lying on the ground and made his way downstairs.

Stretched out on the couch was Peter, idling flipping through Sunday morning shows. He glanced up when Neal hit the last stair. "Morning kiddo."

"Morning," Neal replied, sitting on the armchair.

The silence between them lingered for a few minutes. Finally, Neal asked, "Where are Moz and Elizabeth?"

Peter sat up, stretching his back. "El had some wedding planning thing and Mozzie went along to help her."

"'Wedding planning thing'?" Neal asked.

"Yeah one of her clients called earlier and was having a meltdown about table clothes. So El had to go calm her down. Mozzie was curious about her job so he went with her."

Neal nodded. Mozzie probably wasn't curious about Elizabeth's job, more likely he was just giving Neal and Peter time to talk.

"You hungry?" Peter asked. "There's some left over pizza in the fridge."

"Pizza for breakfast?" Neal joked.

"I won't tell El if you won't," Peter said.

Neal smiled, shaking his head a little and followed Peter into the kitchen. He watched as Peter pulled out the white box and set it on the counter.

"So I was thinking," Peter began, "since Mozzie went with El to her job, you might be interested in coming to mine today."

Neal almost choked on the cold pizza. "You mean go to the FBI?"

Peter nodded. "I need to catch up on some paperwork and I thought maybe you'd like to get a rundown of what an FBI agent does."

Neal sat there thinking. To be honest he didn't want to go to the FBI but how could he say no? Mozzie would be on his case later for refusing. "Yeah sure," he finally said.

Peter smiled. "Good. I'm sure you'll find it interesting." He laughed. "Maybe you'll even help me solve a few cases."

* * *

Peter watched as Neal rolled the baseball in his hands. He sat in front of Peter's desk curled up in the chair. Peter had given him the ball when he got tired of Neal touching everything on his desk. He could tell Neal was bored. He'd thought the teen would have like to see the FBI building but the kid kept shooting nervous glances everywhere.

He sighed, dropping the case folder on the desk. When he did, the pictures that had been loosely paper-clipped inside flew out. Peter cursed quietly in aggravation.

Neal set the ball down and bent down to pick the pictures up. As he stood, Peter watched him pale.

Peter shot up. "Neal, buddy, you okay?" he asked worriedly.

Neal nodded shakily, setting the photo on the desk. "Ah, yeah. I just got a little light headed there for a second."

"You sure?"

Neal sat back in his chair. "I'm fine. I don't think the pizza filled me up."

Peter still watched him, noticing the minute shaking in his hand. "Alright. Well, let me finish this up and we can go get something to eat."

"Yeah, sounds good," Neal said, going back to the baseball.

Peter turned his attention back to the file, still keeping an eye on the teen. He gathered the photos and put the pictures of forged Degas' back in their rightful places. It was one of their newer white collar cases they were looking into. Peter closed the folder and put it back into his locked desk drawer. He ruffled Neal's hair as the left the office. "Let's go home buddy."

* * *

"Neal calm down," Mozzie stated from his spot on his bed.

"How can I calm down, Moz? Peter is investigating the Degas I did."

"Which one?" Mozzie asked.

"Blue Dancers. Why does it matter?" Neal huffed.

"That was the last one you did. Right?" Neal nodded. "As long as you don't do any more for a little while- what?" Mozzie stopped when Neal's expression grew sheepish.

"Keller approached me the other day," Neal said.

"Dammit Neal! We just got here and you're already trying to-"

"I didn't agree to anything, Moz!"

"That's not the point Neal! Look, if we talk to El and Peter-"

"No, I can handle this myself."

"Neal," Mozzie began but Neal was already out the bedroom door.

* * *

Keller grunted as his back hit the wall. "You told me those paintings would be perfect Keller. Unrecognizable from the originals."

"They were," Keller argued.

"Obviously not since the FBI now has them."

"I don't know how they found out."

"Well you better figure it out, otherwise I'm out millions. Because your forger couldn't get a painting right."

"I'll get you the new pieces okay?"

"You better Keller."

_Damn you Neal Caffery. _


End file.
